


Marvel Character One-Shot Collection [Currently Taking Requests]

by RetroChocolate



Category: Captain America (Movies), Deadpool - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Always taking requests, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Reader Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroChocolate/pseuds/RetroChocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty self-explanatory... I will take requests and do one-shots of things you send in. Just give me a scenario and a character, and I'll deliver! *Currently accepting requests*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Dead Serious (Clint Barton)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested by user Alialialiali! Enjoy! :)

Your eyes fluttered open like clockwork at the same time every morning. The alarm that usually rang was basically useless, you always woke up before it. This morning, however, the alarm was unplugged, and you found yourself peeking over at your husband to make sure he was still asleep. His eyelids were flickering just barely, and you studied the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. You loved your husband with every fiber of your being. He was incredibly intelligent, witty, and crazy hot. You just had one  _teeny, tiny_ little thing to pick at. He was protective. Like, very protective. Not clingy, but always very aware of your well-being.

That's why when you got debriefed last week on a mission that was scheduled for today, you kept it to yourself. You knew for sure that if he knew, he would find some way to have it cancelled. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened. Whether he would've asked another Avenger to volunteer in your place, or gone himself, you would not be leaving if he knew about it.

You gently lifted the bed covers off of your legs, and slipped one foot onto the floor. Trying to keep the weight of the bed even, you rolled your body slowly off the edge. You glanced at Clint one more time, and he was still drooling on his pillow (and a little on his arm), so you tiptoed to the bathroom and shut the door. He may have been an all-seeing, world-renowned spy, but so we're you, and much stealthier.

You started the shower and hopped in. Just as you brought the shampoo to your hair, the door creaked open a little bit. Guess not as stealthy as you thought. You saw Clint's head poke in, eyes squinting because of the light.

"Babe, what are you doing up? It's your day off."

You closed eyes and sighed. This was gonna be a long and rough conversation. You opened the shower door so you could hear each other better. "Yeah, um... well the thing is, I accepted a mission. And, uh, it's today. So... yeah."

He furrowed his brow and walked into the bathroom. "What? When did that happen?"

"Last week, actually. We had a debriefing and everything."

"Well... why didn't you tell me? How long are you gonna be gone? Who's going? Where are you travel-?"

"Clint, honey? Calm down." You turned off the shower. And stepped out, grabbing a towel from the hook. You sat down on the edge the bathtub and watched your husband pace back forth with his hands on his head. He ruffled his hair and sighed. "Are you okay?"

He took a moment to answer. "Yeah. Yeah, I just... wish you would've told me earlier. That way I would know I wasn't gonna see my wife for a week or two."

"It's only one week if that makes you feel any better. Maybe even less."

He joined you on the side of the tub. He tapped his fingers on the metal for a while, and you watched him think. He had a right to be mad. "I don't think you should go."

_Here we go._ "Clint, it's just a routine arms raid. Not a big deal."

"If its not a big deal then why can't you cancel?" He took your hands in his, but continued to look at the ground.

"Clint, listen to me. Since we got married I'm supposed to have been on 6 missions. Out of those 6, 5 have been cancelled. Don't you think for a second that I don't know that was your doing. I know it's because you want to protect me, and that's not a bad thing at all... until it interferes with my job." He nodded, and you turned to put your hands on his shoulders. He grabbed your waist and leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "I love you with all my heart, and I promise that within a max of 7 days, I will be right back here in your arms. Besides, you know I'm damn good at what I do."

He chuckled and kissed your nose. "I know I cant keep you away from danger forever. I wish I could, but I cant. It basically follows you everywhere. Promise me you'll come back in one piece?"

"I make no promises," you joked.

"I'm dead serious, (y/n)."

"Bad choice of words, sweetie." You laughed and ran your hands through his hair. "I love you Clint Barton."

"And I love you, too, (y/n)." 

You got up and got back in the shower to finish up. He walked toward the bathroom door to leave you to your routine. "Excuse me mister, where do you think you're going?" He looked at you, confused. "I am _leaving the country_ in three hours. Get in here."


	2. Front Page News (Bucky Barnes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is being interviewed by reader, when they are so rudely interrupted. (Teeny Civil War reference bc I'm hella pumped and why not) Requested by Anon. Enjoy!

This was supposed to be your big break. Three years out of college and your biggest article was a homemade fat-free lasagna recipe. And you quit med school for this?

This whole opportunity was a fluke. Your boss happened to walk into your tiny cubicle at the same time that you had been reading up on an article about a recent disaster in some country called Sokovia. New York's favorite heroes made the headline for that particular piece, and your boss assumed you were especially familiar with them. He threw around the idea of an inside exclusive: personal life, relationships, the works.

While he was wrong about your general knowledge of anything super, you jumped at the chance. The opportunity to write a piece that has nothing to do with the grand opening of a local grocery store? Well, that was simply a miracle.

And that's exactly what you had to remind yourself of as you stood in front of Avengers Tower with an anxious blob on the pit of your stomach. You didnt want to screw this up, but if you didn't try, who knew when another opportunity like this would present itself? With your laptop in your bag and your ID at the ready, you dragged yourself through the doors of one of the tallest towers in New York. This meeting, of course, was not an easy thing to arrange. Managing to get all team members in the city at once was a nightmare. It took about 4 months to schedule, and even then they couldn't guarantee they wouldn't be gone in case of emergency. You didn't mind the wait. It gave you time to come up with interview questions.

Those months of preperation were thrown out the window, however, when the infamous Winter Soldier plopped himself in front of you, your first interview of the day. Not because they were bad questions, but because you couldn't have gotten the questions out of your mouth even if you wanted to. It felt like your tongue was paralyzed. You had seen pictures of course. The papers were always littered with the faces of one hero or another. Still, none of them did justice to how handsome Mr. James Barnes was in person. You tried to keep yourself still, so as to not give away your obvious attraction to the soldier. You extended your hand and he accepted and shook it. "(Y/n)(l/n) of the Daily Sun. How are you today?" You opened the voice recorder on your cell phone and set it on the table in front of you.

"I'm just fine, thanks. James Barnes, but everyone just calls me Bucky." He crossed his legs and leaned back in chair. He had his long hair pulled back in a small bun, and he was wearing a dark blue Henley with black jeans. It felt strange seeing a super soldier in casual clothes. You had only ever seen them in full uniforms and gear.

"So, Mr. Barnes-"

"Please," he interrupted," call me Bucky." He offered a smile and quick wink.

You felt your stomach do a flip-flop. "Right. Bucky." You cleared your throat and took a sip of your ice water, hoping the cold would settle the blush rising to your cheeks. "I just wanted to say before we start that if I bring up something too personal, don't hesitate to let me know. I like to make my clients as comfortable as possible."

He nodded. "Sure. Although if you gave me this heads up, I trust that you've already tried to make these questions about as courteous as you are."

You gave a small chuckle. "Well I did put a lot of thought into them. So let's get started, first with a little background. When and where were you born?"

"March 10, 1917. Brooklyn, New York."

"Oh, so you never moved very far from home."

"Well, I did. To the other side of the world. For a really long time. But home was calling me back, so here I am. Pretty fotunate, too, because if I hadn't come back here I might never have met nice people like you."

Again, you felt the blood rushing to your face. "Oh? That... is very sweet." You kept your eyes trained on your laptop screen with your prewritten questions. "Very sweet. Erm... When were you recruited to the Avengers team?"

"Not too long ago, actually. I was a bit wrapped up in another organization before, I'm sure you and your readers have heard about it. It was kind of an abrupt switch."

You nodded, slightly uncomfortable. Everyone knew about the former-bad-boy-assasin-gone-goody-Avenger. It was a pretty big controversy. People had a hard enough time accepting the Avengers as their vigilante saviors, but when you add a killer that used to work for an enemy organization, some people refuse to accept it. "This must be a really difficult time for you, what with the court hearings and all."

"It's not the most fun thing to be dealing with right now, but I have Steve to help me through it." His foot started to shake, and you took that as a signal to move on to he next topic.

"I actually wanted to talk about Steve for a second. So how long have you know him?"

A radiant smile grew on his face then, and he seemed to almost be on another planet in his mind as he reminisced about what his life was like 70 years ago. "I've known Stevie since we were just boys. We grew up together."

You could feel your own smile starting to grow as you witnessed his happiness. "And how does that feel, having a friend around that you've known for that long?"

He sighed and rolled his lips. "It's... it's beyond comforting. I couldn't do this without him. Whenever I get stressed or overwhelmed I have someone I can turn to and rely on, and that's something that's extremely hard to find even under normal circumstances. The fact that I've had that for almost 90 years is remarkable." You smiled and nodded. "Sometimes we get to talking about the good ol' days, when we would run around Brooklyn, up to no good." He chuckled and continued. "I remember this one time we were playing marbles in front of my apartment building, and we spotted a dime on the street. I've come to learn that now a dime is basically useless, but back then," he huffed, "it might as well have been ten bucks instead of ten cents. Anyway, we ran down to the corner store to but some sweets. The little shop had a huge tree out front, so big the branches hung out over the street. When we had finished up our candy we decided to climb the tree." He chuckled between his words. "I remember we weren't even up there for two minutes before I heard little Stevie screaming from one of the lower branches. I looked down, and there he was, hanging off the branch by one of his suspenders." You were giggling now too. Not only because of the very hilarious Cap story, but because your interviewee was now banging on his arm rest, doubled over with laughter. "It was the funniest thing then, and it's still great now! You know, I have a ton of stories like that..."

You couldn't help it, you tuned out. Not because he was at all boring, but because you were too caught up in the vibrancy of his storytelling. You were more focused on his animation and the way his voice fluctuated rather than the words themselves. The way his hands seemed to act out movement and set up a room so you felt like you were there. The way his eyes shined just a little brighter when he talked about people he loved. A part of you wanted his eyes to look like that while he was talking about you.

You saw a hand wave in front of your eyes. "Hello, Ms. (l/n)?" He brow was furrowed and he was leaning forward in his chair try to get your attention.

You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry, I was... I was, um-"

"Observing?" he asked. His face wore a shit-eating grin, and you knew then that he saw right through you. Not a huge surprise. The dork that you were just wouldn't allow you to play it cool, not even once.

"Exactly," you replied. You smoothed your skirt out and took another sip of water.

"And by observing me, what kind of information have you collected?" Same grin.

"Well, you are a very passionate talker," you mused. He sat back in his chair, and you continued. "When you care about someone or something, they become the center of your attention." And folded his arms and seemed to give an impressed nod. "Which brings me to my next question, because our readers are just dying to know, is there a special someone in your life right now that is capturing your attention?" He practically scoffed at this question. You shrugged, finding it hard to believe that a perfectly sweet man like Bucky couldn't find a date. "It's a valid question," you urged.

He sighed and slouched further down into his chair. "That's a no for right now." He sat up again and leaned forward, and you made and side note to mention how restless he could be, like he was always ready to move. "That could change soon, though. That all depends."

"On what?" You tapped your pen on the arm of the couch. He was leaning close now, with his elbows resting on his knees.

"On you."

 _Woah, woah, woah. Me??_ You stuttered for a moment.

"I find it funny that for a journalist you sometimes have a hard time with your words." He licked his lips. "So whaddya say? You wanna maybe go out with me sometime? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Your cheeks flushed and a smile tugged at your lips. You were about to answer when you heard a clicking sound from around a corner behind you. You stood up and whirled around to see a man in black tactical gear with a gun raised to you and Bucky. Your smile and all the blood in your face vanished. You felt your stomach lurch and the instinct to run, but fear kept you glued to your spot. And thank God you had stayed where you were, or you would've run into the other three men in the next room. They didn't say anything, didn't do anything but walk closer to you with their guns raised. It took him a moment, but Bucky understood. They were ever so kind as to wait for you to leave. "Go, (y/n). This isn't your fight. This is an inside job," he said, all the while staring the men down.

 _He's going to take on all of them? By himself?_  You started to walk toward the door, slowly, and one of them called out to you. "Hey, lady! Don't you think about callin' nobody else, ya hear me? You never know where one of us is hiding out to kill ya. We were kind once, but we don't have that kinda patience." _Damn it._ You nodded, and ran the rest of the way out of the room. You slid against the wall in the hallway and tried to keep your breathing steady. The next thing you heard were high-pitched shrieks that didn't seem like they would come from Bucky, and cracking sounds that you certainly hoped didn't come from Bucky. You felt three strong thuds against the wall you were leaning against, and jumped up, backing away. A final, delayed thud shook the light fixtures. After what felt like only seconds since you'd left the room, Bucky's head appeared from behind the door.

"Hey, you shouldn't come back in here. It's not pretty. I'll grab your stuff and we can head to another room." Before you could say anything, he disappeared again, and returned with your laptop, phone, notepad, and bag. "Here you go." You took your stuff and stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Are you gonna pretend like that didn't just happen?" you squealed. "There's four guys who just tried to kill you, threatened to kill me, and are probably dead now, and you aren't gonna elaborate on that??"

"I'll tell you what. We can discuss it over dinner if you want to know that bad. I'll pick you up this Friday from your office at 8:00." You opened your mouth as if to protest, but not a sound came out. "That's what I thought," he answered smugly.

You closed your mouth and sighed. "Thank you. For whatever the hell that was in there." Your stomach fluttered thinking about the story you were going to publish soon enough. Surely this was worthy of the front page of the Sunday paper! Not only that, but you had a date with a super sexy soldier that saved your life!

"No problem at all. I'd hug you, but I don't wanna get blood on your nice shirt."


End file.
